


An alphabet of I love you's

by WeepingintheTARDIS



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alec Hardy Needs A Hug, Anxiety, BAMF Ellie Miller (Broadchurch), F/M, One Shot Collection, Panic Attacks, alternative ways of saying I love you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24220249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeepingintheTARDIS/pseuds/WeepingintheTARDIS
Summary: Hardy and Miller have strange ways of saying I love you.26 ways in which they express their love for each other (either platonically or romantically).
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 87
Kudos: 240





	1. A - Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short drabble, but I got carried away.
> 
> Alec Hardy is bad at apologies. Ellie Miller is there to help.

DS Ellie Miller was the proud mother of two beautiful boys that she loved and cared for deeply. Since she got a new boss, however, it sometimes felt like she was raising a third.

It didn’t occur often at the Broadchurch Police Station that a large part of the team had to pull an all nighter at the office. Only under extreme circumstances were officers asked to stay. On this particular night they were working their way through an immense amount of files that had been pulled up on their suspect. The man in question was at the moment sleeping in a holding cell, but they were running out of time. If they didn’t dig up enough evidence, they would have to let him go in the morning.

It was around three in the morning and most officers were having a hard time keeping their eyes open when a clatter followed shriek of pain jolted everyone fully awake. 

Ellie jumped up from behind her desk to see Katie hopping on one foot, holding the other, and stumbling to keep her balance.

One moment the young woman’s face was contorted in pain. Then her eyes widened in shock. Ellie watched surprised as she started grabbing sheets of paper from the table and shoving them unceremoniously onto pile on the nearest chair. It became clear what had happened when the next sheets she picked up were soaked with a dark liquid.

‘No, no, no, no!’ Katie desperately tried to get as much of it off, but ended up smearing the ink in the process. One of the DC’s quickly came to her aid with a towel, but it was no use. The documents were unreadable.

‘DC Harford!’ A familiar irritated Scottish voice rumbled through the office. ‘Care to explain what the noise is about?’

All eyes turned to the DI. They watched silently as Hardy crossed the room. He briefly examined the mess and then looked at Katie.

‘What happened?’ he inquired.with a voice that was dangerously calm.

‘It was an accident.’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t see the mug, it wasn’t there before.’

‘An accident.’ Hardy repeated, raising an eyebrow. He picked up one of the dripping papers and held it up for everyone to see.

Katie nodded and took a step back when Hardy’s expression changed from irritated to furious.

‘This is not an accident.’ He slammed the sheet down on the desk. ‘This is a workplace, people. Clean desk policy. That includes your beverages. ’

Katie swallowed and guiltily took a step back, which drew Hardy’s attention back to her.

‘Clean up this mess and print these again.’ he ordered and then addressed the whole office. ‘Who of you idiots left their tea here?’

Looks were exchanged but nobody raised a hand.

‘You people are unbelievable.’ Hardy muttered, shaking his head. He shot one last disgusted look around the room before retreating to his office.

‘Wait, sir.’ Katie had crouched down and was reaching under a nearby desk. ‘Isn’t this yours?’

Hardy stared at the mug in her hand and frowned. Then he glanced over his shoulder to confirm that the tea he had made himself earlier was indeed not sitting on his desk. Confusion shot over his face briefly, but then the angry expression was back in place.

‘Don’t let it happen again.’ He turned sharply and slammed the door of his office shut.

‘Oh for fucks sake.’ Ellie slammed her paperwork down and stalked after him. Without bothering to knock she entered his office. 

Hardy scowled at her.from behind his desk. ‘What do you want?’ 

‘You.’ She pointed at him and then at the door. ‘Out. Now.’

‘Miller.’ He was about to protest but she silenced him with a stern look that she usually reserved for her children.

‘I said now.’ She crossed her arms and watched as he stood begrudgingly. She followed right behind him as he moved past her slowly, avoiding her gaze.

‘Why do you make me do this?’ he almost whined. ‘Can’t you just leave it?’

She ignored his question. Instead she cleared her throat loudly.and gave him a little shove so he was forced to step forward and was again the center of the attention.

He seemed to shrink under the glares that were sent his way and his eyes sought Ellie for help.

She looked back unrelentingly. ‘Go on then.’

He coughed awkwardly and stared at his shoes. ‘‘I ehm- Katie was right, I made that tea.’ he mumbled, gesturing weakly at the mug. ’I’m sorry.’

‘What was that?’

Hardy shifted uncomfortably and he looked like he wanted nothing more than run away and hide. He knew, however, that Ellie wouldn’t let him, so pushed through. This time his voice was clear as he directed his words to Katie. ‘It wasn’t your fault. Let me clean that up.’

Katie shook her head. ‘It’s OK, sir, I’ve got it.’

‘And?’ Ellie prompted, not letting him off the hook this easily.

He took a deep breath and swallowed the last of his pride. ‘And I’m sorry.’

Not a word was spoken, but the faces around him were perhaps a little bit friendlier than before. He looked back, relieved when Ellie nodded her approval. She stepped aside, permitting him to escape. 

He walked past her briskly and she followed, this time closing the door behind them.

‘Was that really so difficult?’ she asked.

Hardy groaned in response and let himself fall back into his chair. His face was flushed with embarrassment. ‘Why, Miller? Why do you make me do that?’

‘I’m helping.’

‘You make me look like a child.’ he retorted. ‘That’s not helping.’

‘Then don’t act like one and we won’t have to do this.’

He grunted. ‘You’re not my mother, Miller.’

‘You’re lucky I’m not.’

‘You’re insufferable.’

She shrugged, unimpressed. ‘And you’re a prick.’ 

Hardy rubbed his eyes, covering his face with his hands. His next words were mumbled almost inaudibly, but Ellie still heard them.

‘I hate you.’ 

‘No you don’t.’ She shook her head, almost laughing at how much he reminded her of a younger Tom. 

He lowered his hands so that his eyes found her and sighed. ‘No. I don’t.’

A small smile crept over her face. In the language of Alec Hardy that almost equaled a declaration of love. ‘Good. I’ll get back to work.’

Her hand was already at the door handle when he spoke again.

‘Miller, I really don’t hate you.’ he paused turning even more red and then tentatively added ‘I’m sorry I said that.’

She was still smiling proudly as she sat down at her desk. It seemed like they didn’t have to do this again anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed this take on the two of them.  
> If you have any suggestions for the next 25 letters that you would see, please let me know ^^


	2. B - Breakfast (and Burned toast)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B is for breakfast, or for burning toast.  
> For Alec Hardy these two are not mutually exclusive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the positive reactions, Just, wow... Thank you all so much for the reviews and kudo's and suggestions ^^
> 
> I was contemplating whether to go for 'bed' or 'bloody twitter' when this idea popped into my head and I decided to roll with it.  
> Honestly there are just too many good b's... 'bollocking' or 'breakdown' or 'beach' and a ton more that would definitely fit these two. (Try to find this many with an O or U or Z... impossible) Maybe one day I'll do a bonus chapter.
> 
> Anyway I got carried away again so it's a bit longer then I expected. Here's B for Breakfast and Burned toast.

It was early, way too early when Ellie Miller climbed the stairs to the Broadchurch Police Station. It was a Sunday and there were hours left before her workday started, yet here she was, driven out of bed by her own dreams.

The nightmares had started barely a week into the Danny Latimer case. It was always the same bloody sand that kept invading her sleep. Every time she woke up crying she cursed the moment she had seen the boy’s lifeless form lying on the beach.

She had been lying awake for an hour, listening to Joe’s soft snoring when she couldn’t take it anymore. If this case wasn’t letting her sleep, she’d better work hard to solve it. So she got out of bed, dressed, planted a kiss on Fred’s forehead and left without waking anyone in the house.

The station was dark and empty when she arrived. She flicked on the lights and moved to her desk to turn on her computer when a voice behind her startled her.

‘Miller?’

She turned swiftly to see Alec Hardy standing in the opening of his office. He looked as surprised to see her as she was seeing him. He wasn’t wearing his jacket, nor his tie and the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows. His hair looked exceptionally ruffled, like he had just come out of bed.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. He looked like he had stayed at the station all night and she suspected that that was a very realistic possibility that he had fallen asleep on his couch.

He shrugged. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’

‘Me neither.’ Ellie sighed, dropping her bag on the ground. She sagged down on her chair. and covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. ‘Bloody nightmares.’

Hardy approached her and nodded understandingly. He sat down on the edge of her desk, rubbing his eyes. She noticed the dark circles and red edges. He looked extremely tired.

‘How long have you been here?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ he dismissed her question, raising her suspicions that he hadn’t left at all. ‘Nightmares about Danny?’

‘Yes.’ She didn’t elaborate, just stared vaguely into the distance.

She noticed him shift uncomfortably, trying to come up with a response. It was obvious that he wasn’t sure what to do. 

‘Do you wanna ehm-’ he shrugged helplessly. ‘maybe talk about it?’

‘God, no.’ She had come here to distract herself, not to have a no doubt extremely awkward conversation about this with her boss.

‘Good.’ Some of the tension drained from his shoulders. 

‘Do you?’ 

‘No.’ he replied curtly.

They stared at each other, awfully aware of the awkwardness of the situation. Then Ellie shook her head and slowly got on her feet.

‘I need some air.’

She strolled across the bullpen and opened the door to the balcony. The morning air was cool on her skin as she stepped outside and it helped clear her head. The sky above her head was a clear blue and a few clouds eastwards coloured a bright orange, announcing the rising sun. Behind her she heard Hardy get up and for a moment she feared he would come up behind her with more questions, but he didn’t. The footsteps went in the opposite direction and vanished.

Ellie had only known her boss for barely two months, but she knew he suffered from nightmares himself. Hardy would never tell her, but she would notice the tired look on his face, the hunched shoulders and the unnecessarily sharp remarks send to anyone in his way. On those days he was likely to spend both early mornings and late evenings at the station. It secretly worried her that, as the case dragged on, she found him like that more frequently. But if she was honest, her own nightmares were getting worse as well. She suspected Hardy knew this too, but he mentioned it.

She wasn’t sure whether she was relieved about this or not. On the one hand, this was Alec Hardy, her boss who was generally rubbish at anything remotely social. He was the last person anyone would go to to share their feelings. On the other hand, sometimes the man seemed more than capable of handling these situations. Ellie knew he had a softer side, he just almost never choose to show it.

Ellie didn’t know how long she had been standing there when the smell of something burning shook her out of her musings. Just as she wanted to shout for her boss not to burn the bullpen down, she heard the footsteps return.

Hardy stepped outside, carrying a plate with something that might be recognized as toast and a steaming mug of tea. He wordlessly handed them to her before walking back inside. A few moments later the smell of burned toast increased and.he reappeared with a plate and mug of his own.

He looked little bit better, Ellie thought, now that his tie was back in place and his jacket covered most of his rumpled shirt. He seemed to have put some effort into fixing his hair too.

‘Do you mind?’ he asked, carefully keeping his distance and allowing her a way out if she’d rather be alone. As she shook her head he relaxed a little bit and stood next to her, leaning on the balcony.

Se put down her mug and eyed the contents of her plate suspiciously. She held one of the pieces close to her face to inspect the dark underside. Hardy observed her thorough inspection first with slight amusement, but when she started sniffing the bread he couldn’t keep quiet.

‘Are you always this picky with your food?’ he grumbled irritatedly.

‘I am when you prepare it.’ She pulled a face and tried to scratch off the darkest patch. An impossible task with only one free hand. ‘How do you manage to ruin something as simple as toast?’

Hardy groaned. ‘Just eat it, woman. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it ages ago.’

This elicited a chuckle from her. ‘I suppose you would have.’

He grimaced and took a large bite from his own, even more burned, toast. Somewhat relieved he noticed that Miller decided that this meant it was safe to at least start nibbling on the crust. 

‘What is this anyway?’ she gestured between their plates. 

‘I made you breakfast.’ he stated as if it was obvious, which it was. 

She raised her eyebrows. ‘You don’t even make me tea.’ 

‘Just for the record, I did make you tea.’

Ellie looked as if she wanted to say something but Hardy held up his hand.

‘MIller,’ he sighed. ‘Will you please just shut up and eat.’

They continued their breakfast in silence, chewing on the burned toast and looking out over the sleeping town. The sun was hanging low and cast large shadows over the roads. Not a single person was out, but it wouldn’t be long before the early residents would start their morning routines. It was peaceful to stand here in the morning breeze with the sun warming their faces. The only sounds came from the wind, the rolling waves and the screaming birds. 

Suddenly Ellie spoke, breaking the spell. ‘Why are you being nice to me? I don’t trust you when you’re being nice.’

‘I’m not.’ he replied. ‘I’m being nice to myself. Can’t have you getting on my nerves all day because you aren’t sufficiently nourished. ‘s The most important meal of the day.’

She snorted. ‘You always skip breakfast.’

He shrugged. ‘You don’t.’

Silently they sipped their tea. It was surprisingly peaceful to stand here in each other’s company, although neither of them would admit it to the other. They didn’t talk and that was fine, Ellie realised, it fitted their relationship. Maybe there would be a time in the future where he learned to trust her enough to open up, maybe he would have escaped this town long before then. Or maybe this was as it would always be. Either way, she knew that despite all the bickering and rudeness he did care for her, even if he couldn’t express it in words.

Hardy almost spilled his tea over his shirt when Miller suddenly elbowed him. He shot her a glare that disappeared when he saw her looking at him almost fondly

‘You know, it suits you, being nice for a change.’

He took another sip to avoid answering. Beneath them the first officers were climbing the stairs and Ellie waved at them enthusiastically. 

Hardy took this as his cue to tilt his head back and and quickly down the last of his tea. ‘OK, back to work, Miller.’

He took both their plates and walked all the way to the small kitchen to put them in the sink. He let the water run and gathered the dishes that were scattered all over the counter while the water heated up. Ellie watched the whole thing in surprise. First breakfast, now the dishes… He was really outdoing himself this morning. 

‘Sir, wait.’ she put the remainder of her tea at her desk and hurried after him. ‘I’ll do that.’

‘You don’t have to.’ 

She groaned in frustration. ‘Move, before I change my mind,’

He paused contemplating doing just that, but then stepped aside, leaving her to it.

‘Thank you.’

One or the DC’s that had just come in moved between them and opened the cupboard above her head. Reaching inside for a glass he whispered. ‘You’re too nice for him, Ellie.’ 

She chuckled, glancing at her boss who was walking away but could still definitely hear them. ‘Believe me, i'm just being nice to myself.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: C is for Collapse/Cuddling/Comfort  
> Or likely a combination, because for Ellie MIller these are not mutually exclusive.


	3. C - Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec has a panic attack. Ellie is there to help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C is for collapse, for comfort and for cuddling (sort of).  
> This would be set somewhere between the end of season one and the middle of season two.
> 
> There's a description of a panic attack, so if that's not something you want to read, skip this chapter.

He had felt it happen. He had noticed the exact moment the unwanted memories broke through the barriers. It happened from time to time, mostly in his sleep. Sometimes a latent thought was enough to bring it all rushing back. Today, on the other hand, the confrontation had been quite direct.

_ Kids playing a loud game, laughter filled the air until it didn’t. An anxious cry. A splash. A moment of shocked silence before- “Help!’  _

The girl couldn’t have been older than seven. She couldn’t swim. How could anyone in this town not teach their kids how to swim?

_ Footsteps running. A man, one of the fathers maybe, tossed off his shoes and jacket and jumped in the water.  _

He had been frozen to the spot while Miller had set off towards the commotion to see if she could help.

_ More splashing, desperate cries from both the girl and her friends.  _

He had felt it building the remainder of the day, the emotions bulking up in the back of his mind, in the back of his throat, waiting for the moment he would break. That’s why he locked himself away in his office, closed the blinds and tried to distract himself with work until everyone had gone home.

Maybe it had been the wrong decision to lie down on the couch, but he was exhausted. In the end one moment of letting his guards down was all it took.

_ She could have drowned. I couldn’t save her.  _

It was a mantra, repeating over and over while memories flashed before his eyes. Fresh memories mixed with old ones with only one constant factor.

_ Water. Water everywhere. _

He raised from the couch, pacing the small distance between the door and the opposite wall. Counting his steps and willing his head to stop thinking.

_ The girl didn’t drown. She was saved. She is alive. _

He tried to tell himself that, tried to convince himself it was fine, but it was pointless. The scenery shifted.

_ Water. Water all around him. Water pulling him under, the weight of the girl in his arms dragging him down. Water filling his nose, his ears, his mouth as he screamed. _

Choking he grabbed his collar, trembling fingers fumbling with the button. He needed more air. He couldn’t drown in air. 

His heart hammered against his chest blood pounding in his ears blocking out every other noise. He tried to take a deep breath, tried steadying himself, but the tears pressed through, forcing heavy sobs to wreck his frame. Overall there was fear. A terrifying cold layer that covered everything. He wanted to flee, but he couldn’t move. 

Gasping between sobs he grabbed his head, trying to stop, to drown out the noise, the fear.

_ There’s no water. It’s not real. It’s not real. _

Stars danced before his eyes and he reached blindly around for support. His hand connected with the wall and he slid down to the floor. He buried his head in his knees, hands clasping his head and felt the water rush over him. Rocking himself he cried and waited until it was all over. 

The light dimmed and a distorted voice came from above the surface. His name, he realized, and he clung on to the sound. 

\---

Ellie had been the last one in the bullpen and was on her way out when she heard the body collapse against the wall. Dropping her bag she hurried towards the sound. Boosted by fear she bolted through the door to find her boss in the worst condition she had ever seen him in. Alec Hardy had reduced to a small shaking bundle of limbs. Wretched sobs rocked through his frame.

‘Hardy!’ Adrenaline coursed through her and she wondered briefly if she had to call an ambulance. She had seen Hardy go down once before during a chase and she had not forgotten that he had almost died on her that night. She stood over him, desperately trying to get his attention. ‘Hardy, look at me!’

He didn’t react, so Ellie lowered to her knees. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder. ‘Alec!’

The touch seemed to shake him out of his shell. He raised his head and two watery bloodshot eyes peered at her over his knees. Ellie quickly assessed the situation. He was breathing too fast and his eyes were wild unfocused, but this was different from his heart attack. She could notice the subtle difference between fear for his life and whatever terror was haunting him right now. Ellie had seen this look on people before and recognized the blind panic. It shouldn’t relieve her, but it did anyway. As long as his heart could keep up he would not die on her again.

‘Alec, look at me. It’s okay.’

‘It’s not!’ He trembled and a fresh flood of tears streamed over his face. ‘I-I-’

‘It will be.’ Ellie gripped his shoulder tighter. ‘You’re having a panic attack.’

‘I KNOW!’ He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his temples. The movement shook the hand from his shoulder. His breath came quicker now, each intake more shallow than the one before. 

‘Lean back, not forward.’ She instructed. ‘Open your lungs.’

He complied, moving his elbows outwards and tilting his head back.

‘Good. Breath out, as much as you can.’

It took a few moments, but Hardy managed to move away from the verge of hyperventilation. He was still shaking when he finally looked at her, voice trembling. ‘I- I- I can’t stop.’

‘It’s alright.’ Ellie put as much calm in her voice as she could muster while inside she was shaking as much as he was. ‘What can you see?’

‘Water.’ he shuddered and his breath hitched again. ‘I- I don’t-’

_ The water…  _ Ellie had noticed Hardy’s fear of water before, but she hadn't thought it affected him to this extend. The girl they saw today must have triggered something. Mentally she scolded herself.  _ Why didn’t I notice? Why didn’t I check on him when he locked himself away? _

‘I mean right here.’ she clarified. ‘Come on, name five things that you can see.’

‘You.’

‘Good. What else?’ She snapped her fingers as his eyes slid out of focus. ‘Alec! Stay with me. What else can you see?’

‘The floor, your hand, my shoes.’ he summed up rapidly. ‘My desk.’

Ellie watched worriedly as he closed his eyes and another tear slid down his cheek. She raised her hand and gave his knee a gentle squeeze. 'Tell me four things you can touch.’

‘Your hand. My hair,’ He inhaled deeply and swallowed, steadying his voice. ‘The floor again and the wall.’

Hardy blinked, eyes looking for hers and Ellie nodded encouragingly. ‘You’re doing well. Now three things you can hear.’

‘Your voice. My voice. And ehm…’ he held his breath and listened. ‘I hear the clock ticking.’

He lowered his arms, fingers now digging into the fabric of his trousers. To Ellie’s relief the shaking had subsided almost completely. ‘Almost there. Two things you can smell.’

He breathed in deeply through his nose, scanning the air for a distinct scent. ‘I smell sweat.’ his face scrunched up in disgust. ‘And perfume.’

She smiled slightly at his expression. It was a good sign. ‘Last one. Name one thing you can taste.’ 

He didn’t have to think about that one. ‘Salt.’ he said immediately. ‘Tears.’

‘Good.’ She examined him. His face was tear-stained, but his eyes were clear now. Although his breathing was still faster than normal he was no longer trembling. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better.’ He used the sleeve of his dress shirt to wipe his eyes and cheeks. Then he combed the hair from his forehead and looked at her with wonder. ‘How did you know all that?’ 

Ellie's face fell and she bit her lip. ‘Joe.’

'Oh.’ Hardy put the pieces together. ‘I didn’t mean to-’

‘No it’s fine.’ she cracked a smile. ‘Joe taught me when he was still a paramedic. These tricks come in handy from time to time.’

’They do.’ he agreed. 

She patted his shoulder and then raised to her feet. With a painful groan she bend and stretched her legs. At these moments she felt old. ‘Can you stand?’

Hardy accepted the hand that was offered to him and let himself be pulled to his feet. Ellie noticed that he had started to shiver lightly. Looking around the office she located his jacket on the couch.

‘Here, put this on. I’ll be right back.’ she tossed him his jacket and quickly made her way to the kitchen. When she returned, two glasses of water in her hands, Hardy was perched on the edge of his desk. He had wrapped himself in both the jacket and his coat and was rubbing his arms.

‘You should drink.’ She handed him a glass and waited patiently until he had finished it. When he declined the second one, she set both glasses down on the desk and shot her boss a warning look. ‘Just so you know, I’m not leaving before you drink that one too.’

He noted the underlying concern in her voice and nodded obediently. Despite the extra layers of clothing he was still shivering.

‘Are you okay?’

He huffed. Stupid question really. ‘I’m just cold ‘s all.’

‘That’s quite normal.’ Ellie watched as he wrapped his arms around himself again. ‘Do you wanna tell me what happened there?’

‘Not particularly.’

‘Tell me anyway?’ She tried to find his eyes to gauge how he was doing. He looked conflicted. After what felt like hours he spoke, softly and carefully choosing the words.

‘That child almost drowned.’ He swallowed heavily and continued. ‘I have dreams, about the water. It’s happened before. But never like this.’

Something shifted in his eyes, a flashback maybe. His voice faltered. ‘I wake up and I can’t- I can’t stop it.’

His breathing was speeding up again. Ellie saw fear cross his face and she knew he could easily relapse back into his previous state if she didn’t do something.

‘Hardy, stay with me.’ She grabbed his arm. ‘Look at me.’

He did, grabbing hold of her arm as well, shaking his head frantically as if to shake off whatever thoughts were intruding his mind.

‘Breathe.’

‘I am!’ He choked out desperately.

‘That’s not what I meant!’ Ellie groaned inwardly. Even when panicking this man was infuriating. ‘Deep breaths.’

‘I can’t!’

Ellie hesitated, only for a moment, before pulling Hardy forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his back. She felt his hands clutch at her shoulders as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to push her away of hold her closer. She breathed in deeply, a sharp contrast against the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 

‘Deep breaths.’ she told him. ‘You can do it.’

Whether it was the arms around him or the words or simply everything becoming too much, Hardy finally gave in. His head buried in her shoulder, stifling a sob. She felt the erratic hammering of his heart and the almost unnatural warmth he was radiating. Chest to chest they breathed, Ellie adapting her pace slowly to guide Hardy’s down. Her hand run up and down his back soothingly and she kept whispering small encouragements. She held him and he clung to her until eventually Hardy lifted his head.

Ellie put a little distance between them, but kept her hands on his waist, watching him intently. ‘Better?’

He nodded and let go of her completely to wipe his eyes. He took a step back and leaned heavily against his desk. He coughed awkwardly. ‘You continue to surprise me today, Miller.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Ellie straightened her blouse and noticed that the shoulder was wet from his tears. She shrugged, it didn’t bother her. She studied Hardy, whose gaze was now fixed on the ceiling. He looked ashamed and vulnerable, but no longer frightened. 

‘Here.’ She reached around for the second glass of water and pushed it into his hands.‘Drink and I won’t ask you to talk about it again.’

‘That would be better, yeah.’ He downed the water in one go. The empty glass was placed next to the first one. He rubbed his neck, still refusing to look at her. ‘Miller?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘That helped. Both of it.’

‘You’re welcome.’ she repeated, smiling genuinely.

‘I’m eh-’He paused, frowned, eyes locked on the floor now. ‘It won’t happen again.’

Ellie shook her head, not sure whether it was appropriate to laugh at either his naivety or very transparent lie. ‘Well, if it does happen again I’ll gladly help you through it.’

He looked confused, but nodded anyway.

‘Alec?’

He flinched at the use of his name, but didn’t correct her. ‘Yes?’

‘You don’t have to explain anything to me.’ She said softly. ‘But it might help to tell me when something triggers you. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

Hardy opened his mouth to say something, but Ellie held up her hand.

‘Don’t tell me now. Try to tell me when it happens again’ The hand landed on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. ‘WIll you be okay if I go home?’

He nodded silently and watched her turn to leave.

‘We don’t have to talk about this.’ she turned in the doorway. ‘But if you need anything, or just want to talk, call me.’

‘I will.’

Even though Ellie knew that he most likely wouldn’t, having him say this was already a very good start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read despite this chapter being a bit dark.  
> At the start of the pandemic reaching my country I experienced a few mild panic attacks myself and I honestly just needed a place to get it out of my system.  
> The first grounding technique used in this work is called the 5-4-3-2-1 technique, which intends to shift the focus from the irrational insubstantial fear to the reality of the world around you by using all five of the senses. For me personally this technique has a low succes rate, but it is very common and I imagine it would work on Hardy if Ellie is there to guide him.  
> The second technique is a breathing technique that helps calming someone down by breathing together. For me this is much more effective, but unfortunately there isn't always someone near to help with that.
> 
> I noticed that when I get tired my Dutch starts to blend in with the English, so I apologize for any grand mistakes. All my work is unfortunatly unbeta'ed. If something bothers you too much, feel free to point it out, I might learn a thing or two.  
> Up next, a brighter chapter to compensate this one. D is for ...?


	4. D - DInner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> D is for dinner (at least in this work, see endnote)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I’m overwhelmed by the positive response. Thank you all so much. Each and every review and kudo brings a huge smile to my face. It is awesome to know that people appreciate the effort put into this work. I feel like there is a good chance I will return to the events of the previous chapter somewhere in the foreseeable future.
> 
> D is for dinner, although it could also be for date (read the endnote!).  
> Set in 1x02 and some weeks thereafter.

The first time Hardy and Miller had dinner together was when they had known each other for barely a week. Hardy, eyes flicking over his computer screen without having moved otherwise for the past few hours, hadn’t realised it was getting late when MIller had knocked on his door.

‘I’m getting dinner. Can I get you anything?’

It was quite astonishing really as much as it was annoying him. He couldn’t understand how this woman, despite the instant and obvious dislike, which she reminded him of multiple times a day, kept being… well, nice to him, if politely so. They argued, a lot. She told him off, made it clear on several occasions that she was only working with him because she had no other choice. Then later she would still make him tea and be utterly affronted when he didn’t reciprocate the gesture. And now she was asking this. She could have just left, let him take care of himself, but here she was, offering to get him dinner.

Miller made an impatient noise and he made a vague noncommittal gesture. 

This he instantly regretted when half an hour later Miller placed an all too familiar looking paper wrapped packet on his desk along with some napkins. 

‘I can’t eat  _ that _ .’ 

She actually glared at him in disappointment. Heaving a big sigh he lowered himself on his chair and began unwrapping his meal.

‘It’s all there is. Eat or be hungry.’

With another sigh he started picking at his food. He could have just accepted her gesture for what it was, kind, unnecessarily so, without a fuss, but he was too annoyed. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that he felt the need to act so childishly. That what it was, he was acting out, rebelling against the things he couldn’t wrap his head around. It was exactly this behaviour that Miller called him out on.

‘No, it’s you who is not the right fit, swanning in here, taking promotions meant for other people. Not being able to accept a cup of coffee or a bloody bag of chips without a great big sigh.’

He simply stared at her, too irritated by her unceasing obsession with the whole “you took my job” nonsense to process the last sentence. 

Miller apologised, because of course she did. ‘Sorry.’ and after a short pause. ‘Sir.’

\--

It wasn’t until many cups of tea, coffee and even on one particular morning a thermos later that her words, heated and unfiltered, caught up with him. When they did, Hardy finally realised that it should have been him apologising rather than MIller that night. 

Deep down he envied Miller, because it had seemed so easy when she said those words. 

Miller had apologised almost intuitively and had known how to do so genuinely. Now Hardy understood that was because it had been genuine. It was what she did time and time again.

Miller admitted her mistakes, she apologised when she was out of line, because in her world, it was simply the right thing to do. And, Hardy had realised rather belatedly, so was making tea and offering to bring someone dinner. It was not just a polite gesture, she was taking care of the people around her. All she expected in return was for others to accept her kindness and once in a while acknowledge their appreciation.

All Hardy had ever done was decline, protest and indeed sigh, a lot. Not even once had he made an effort to respond with at least a half-hearted thank you. Miller had been right to call him out on his behaviour and he should probably apologise. However, even just thinking about how he could do so was extremely uncomfortable and overwhelmed him with shame. Hardy didn’t know how to bring it up, so he didn’t and instead scolded himself in silence for not only being rude, but for being a coward as well.

\--

One morning, several weeks into the Danny Latimer case, Miller let out a surprised yelp when Hardy exited the kitchen and thrusted a steaming mug into her hands with a grumbled ‘Don’t mention it.’

She continued to stare at him bewilderedly, wondering if she should check on her boss to make sure he was OK, and almost burned her fingers on the hot ceramic. 

From that day on both of them always made two cups of tea instead of just one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent another day writing fanfiction rather than working on my final report for uni and getting enough sleep.  
> This was originally intended as “Miller brings dinner because SHE CARES” which quickly changed into “That one time dinner was actually a date” and then grew out to “The 4 times that dinner was just dinner and that one time it was not (although neither of them would admit it.)”. Needless to say, this got waaaaaay too long. (almost 3k) In the end I decided that it would probably be better valued as a separate story of which this is the first chapter. I will polish it up and possibly post the rest in a few days, so keep an eye out for that if you’re interested. :)


	5. E - Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes he gives her a look so strange and conflicted, she can’t make anything of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E is for eyes.  
> This is long and a bit sad and not very pretty, but I hope that the end will make up for it.

It’s too early and still dark when Ellie follows the coastal path halfway up the cliffs. He is already there, in suit, tie and jacket, looking the other way, but clearly, definitely waiting for her. His arms are crossed, but the way his shoulders are turned back tells her that it’s for posture and not because he’s cold. Nevertheless she reaches into her bag and pushes a thermos at his chest. He takes the container of warm tea from her hands and spares her a quick glance. His eyes are cold and dark, brow furrowed and his lips form a thin line. 

She follows his gaze to the ravage below them and swallows as her stomach turns. It’s not a pretty sight. The kids, whose tangled limbs she is facing, are barely old enough to be driving the motorcycles that lie beside them. She looks back at Hardy and knows that they’re both thinking the same thing.  _ My child is never driving one of those. _

She aches to say something, to make it hurt less, but she knows this look. There’s a hardness in his gaze that she hasn’t seen many times before, though always when there were children involved. It’s better to stay quiet for now, let him process at his own pace. He will speak eventually. So Ellie waits patiently, silently sipping her own tea until Hardy turns away from the horrific scene.

‘Thanks, Miller.’ He says, awkwardly holding up the thermos as if that is the sole reason to thank her, before brushing past her to talk to the other officers.

\---

Hardy is shit with emotions in general. He often gets confused or irritated and leaves Ellie to handle the situations where he gets lost. This leads people to think that Hardy’s own emotions are just as complicated. Most just label him sad, angry or rude - is that even an emotion?- and leave it at that. Ellie knows those people are wrong.

She likes to think she has him all figured out by now. She’s seen all his looks and all the signs. She can tell when he is upset, when he is angry or when he’s just tired. She knows when the nightmares have kept him up and nowadays one look is all it takes to determine whether he has slept in his own bed or on his office’s couch.

Ellie knows when the glance cast in her direction is a warning, an encouragement or a question. She knows when he wants her to talk and when he wants her to be silent. She can distinguish when he is cross with her and when he is cross with himself and treating her like shit because of it. She knows when he is genuinely sorry and also when he is bulshitting his way through an apology. The latter are mostly forced out of him by Ellie herself. 

\---

The two boys turn out to be neighbours. Despite knowing better, they decide to split up. Better to have to be the bearer of bad news only once.

Whatever Hardy might say, Ellie don’t thinks this will ever get any easier. She gets attached too easily, is pulled in by the family, becomes part of their grief. It breaks her heart to inform the weeping parents that their son’s death might not be an accident. She knows the implications, knows that a police investigation will only add to the weight of an already tragic death. A single tear slips down her cheek and she misses the half hearted, scolding eye roll, misses his strong, anchoring presence next to her.

She feels a little better once she is outside. Having escaped the heavy atmosphere she feels like she can finally breathe again. Leaning against their car she watches as the door of the neighbours’ house opens and Hardy steps outside. He shakes the hand of a woman, presumably the mother, politely.

Behind the woman a small light-haired girl appears. Hardy crouches down and extends his hand to her as well. The girl, who can’t be much older than six, shimmies behind her mother’s protective leg. The woman laughs shakily though the tears and after an encouraging shove, the girl gingerly takes Hardy’s hand.

There’s a falter in his step as he walks over to her. Barely noticeable, but it’s there. His fists are clenched tightly and she notices that he is blinking more frequently than usual.

She holds up her hand. ‘Keys.’ 

It isn’t a question and he doesn’t object, drops the keys in her hand and without a word slides into the passenger's seat.

Ellie takes her time to circle the vehicle, allowing him a small window to compose himself, before she gets into the car.

Hardy’s eyes are fixed on a point far away that only he can see. His hands are grasping his knees. He flinches as Ellie reaches over and places a hand on his arm, but a few moments later some of the tension leaves and he breathes out shakily.

‘Just drive.’ he croaks. ‘Please.’

So she does.

\---

The best part of figuring out Hardy is to be able to tell when he is happy. It doesn’t happen often, but once it does, the lines in his face soften. At these times Ellie knows she can tease him, make jokes. She tries everything to get him to smile. When he laughs, his eyes light up and warmth sparkles in them, pours from them and fills Ellie’s heart with joy. 

Against all expectations he turns out to be brilliant with children. Somehow the grumpiness seems to be reserved for adults only. He is incredibly patient, willing to answer all sorts of questions, even multiple times. He allows them to touch him, lets himself be pulled along by the hand when a kid wants to show him something. The children’s endless enthusiasm is contagious, even to Alec Hardy. They can make him laugh like he has momentarily forgotten the rest of the world. 

\---

That afternoon Hardy drives them both to the school so she can pick up Tom. He waits in the car, spends the time making a few calls. She waits a few paces away, leaning against a street lantern, smiling at the unmistakable irritation in his muffled voice. She waves Tom over to their parking spot as soon as she spots him. The boy exchanges fist bumps with his friends and walks over, smiling brightly.

A sudden loud noise makes all heads turn to the street where a bright red motorcycle l spurts past them. Tom stares. Ellie glares and tries very hard not to yell any insults that will go unheard anyway.

'Did you see him?' Hardy has sticked his head out of the car window and tries to get a glimpse of the driver.

'Didn't get a good look. He was too fast.' She takes a deep breath and shrugs it off. It's most likely nothing. They're both on edge after this long day and are suddenly hyper aware of motorcycles.

Tom is still staring in awe at where the motorcycle has disappeared.

Ellie shakes her head and grabs her son by the shoulder, steering him towards the car.

'Mum!' He complains, trying to shake off her hand.

'Don't get any ideas.' She warns him.

‘I won’t.’ Tom quickly ducks and sprints away before she can grab him. 

‘Tom Miller!’ but her stern face doesn’t last as the boy turns, shooting a wary look in the direction of his friends and then laughs playfully. ‘Come on, sweetheart, Hardy and I need to get back to work.’

She expects Hardy to make another comment, but he remains silent. She shoots him a pointed look, only to find him staring back at her.

‘We do.’ He coughs awkwardly and turns his head, suddenly refusing to look at her. ‘Come on, Tom.’

\---

She likes to think that, by now, she knows all his looks, the happy ones and the sad ones, but that’s not quite true. Sometimes he gives her a look so strange and conflicted, Ellie can’t make anything of it. She only ever sees this one directed at herself, intense, open and vulnerable. It’s in those instances where his eyes soften and become just a tad bit darker. She thinks she sees wonder, but also fear. There’s a lot of confusion too. The moments seem unguarded, like time has frozen around him, until he realises she’s caught him staring and he looks away. He manages to distract her every time, until she forgets it had even happened. He’s good at that too. 

\---

Someone must have taken pity on them, Ellie decides, although she is not sure who and why. The chat history from the recovered phones reveals the plan for a nightly ride. The two boys were alone. A chat of the technician with one of the fathers quickly clarifies that the motorcycles had been tampered with by the boys themselves. That leaves the detectives without a motive and no sign of foul play. Maybe for once these deaths are just what they seem: horrific and tragic accidents as a consequence of extreme stupidity.

'It's not murder.'

'Not murder.'.Hardy agrees. He smiles sadly and closes the file.

They sit in silence, the clock ticking away the minutes, and neither of them wants to break it. 

_ An accident _ , Ellie thinks, _ give it a few years and it could have been Tom _ . She knows he’s thinking along the same lines, has been from the start.

‘Do you want me to bring you home?’

He checks his watch, -they still have a few hours on the clock- sighs, and shrugs.

‘I’ll take that as a yes.’ she stands and tosses him his jacket to make it clear that he doesn’t have a choice.

\---

It’s on that same wretched day that she figures out the last part. The case of the crashed motorcycles hasn’t lasted even two full days, but both of them are exhausted. They don’t talk while Ellie drives. It’s better that way. She needs her full concentration to keep her eyes on the road.

When she pulls up in front of his house he remains seated next to her. She doesn’t question it, turns off the engine and sighs. She’s fighting to keep her eyes open. On the other hand, closing them for just a moment can’t hurt, right? Why does she feel so tired? If this had been a murder investigation- No she shouldn't think about that, shouldn't think that maybe, somehow that would have been easier than feeling so helplessly empty.

‘Miller?’

His voice pulls her out of the darkness that’s threatening to take her under. She blinks, focusing on his form. He looks worried, but, she suspects, so does she. He doesn’t ask if she’s okay, though. He knows she’s not. He’s just as far from okay as she is.

‘Good work.’ is what he says instead and she nods, although she doesn't feel like she has really accomplished anything.

‘Thank you, sir.’

His gaze leaves her, drawn to the house, where a door is being opened. Daisy steps outside, chatting happily into the phone that’s pressed against her ear. The girl notices the familiar car and raises a hand.

Ellie waves back, briefly wonders why Hardy does not, and that’s when she sees it. He stares at his daughter, brown eyes soft and ever so fondly. It’s the same look he’s given her, she realises, only without the confusion and-  _ Oh... _

‘Oh.’ The syllable falls from her lips before she can catch it and the moment is broken.

Hardy frowns at her. ‘What?’

‘You really love her.’ she blurts.

‘She’s my daughter, of course I bloody love her.’

‘Of course.’ she swallows, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. ‘It’s just the way you look at her. It shows.’

‘I know.’ He pauses and there is the confusion, a brief flicker of it, before he sends her that sad smile. ‘I know it does.’

_ Oh… _ It hits her a second too late and he’s already standing next to the car. 

‘Wait!’

He complies, bends over to prop his head back inside. ‘Get some sleep, Miller, you’re exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

She wants to stop him, although she doesn’t know what she wants to say. The world seems very unreal, like she's watching a movie instead of living in it. Her head is swimming and not just from exhaustion. She opens her mouth, but he cuts her off before she gets her voice to work.

‘Drive safely.’

He closes the door and walks away, scratches the back of his neck, runs the same hand over his face. Ellie knows he will pinch the bridge of his nose next. He's confused, unsure, maybe even embarrassed. She watches as he pulls his daughter briefly into a hug and leads her inside. At the doorstep he turns and Ellie doesn’t have to be close to know what look is on his face, for the first time doesn’t have to wonder what it means.

She likes to think that maybe, just maybe, she couldn’t understand that one before, because he was still trying to figure it out for himself.


	6. F - Friends (and a Forehead kiss)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘We’re not friends.’ He spit out the term as if it was an insult.
> 
> ~~~
> 
> ‘Miller? You’re my best friend, you know that right?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!  
> I've been absent for a while. This chapter has been a pain, and I'm not quite satisfied with the end (it's sad, sorry), but I hope you enjoy it anyway.  
> F is for friends (and a forehead kiss).

Hardy had left. He had put on his coat, walked out of the bullpen and simply left without a word. For some officers their boss' weird behaviour was slightly annoying. Ellie, on the other hand, normally found it infuriating, because this obstructed her own work. It wasn't the first time he had pulled this stunt either. He always seemed to get away with it. When she had complained to Jenkinson, her chief had kindly told her to give the man some space.  _ 'I can assure you that I wouldn’t allow it if it weren’t necessary.’ _

Oh, he would come back, surely, but it could take a few minutes or multiple hours. There was no way to tell.

Today is different. Hardy had not stomped by in his natural broodingly angry fashion, but had slipped out quietly, unnoticed by anyone but Ellie.

They're almost two months into the Danny Latimer case and she is tired, knows he must be too. When two hours have past awaiting his return, she grabs her coat and leaves the station.

It isn’t difficult to find him, A dark figure, sitting stiff, a motionless statue apart from his hair, which is tossed around by the wind. Wordlessly she lowers herself down next to him, adjusting her coat to shield her trousers from the cold muddy sand.

After a good two minutes, Hardy turns his head slightly and sighs.

'How did you find me?'

'I've seen you here before.'

'Ah…'

He stares at the sea again.

She clasps her arms around her legs and rests her chin on top of her knees. The waves roll over the sand, the water collapsing in on itself, rolling and crashing before being pulled back. 

'Why?'

The word is uttered so silently that it almost gets lost in the wind, but she catches it anyway. Ellie turns her head to watch him.

'You looked like you needed a friend.'

His fingers twitch, brow furrows. 'I don't have friends here, Miller.' 

Something in the distanced cold way he says it makes her want to hit him. 'Don't be ridiculous.'

'What?' He catches her pointed look. A wry smile introduces itself. 'You?'

She rolls her eyes at him and he turns back to the waves that are steadily creeping up to where their feet are perched in the sand.

‘We’re not  _ friends _ .’ The term is spit out as if it were an insult.

It hurts. Admittedly more than she had expected, coming from him. Despite that, she can't really say that his reaction surprises her. Not anymore.

She waits, despite knowing better, to give him a chance to- to what exactly she doesn't know. She doesn't expect her boss to take his words back.

Indeed he doesn't seem intended to say or do anything else. His eyes stay fixed on the horizon, his mouth clamped shut to a thin line of lips.

Ellie gives up. 'Suit yourself, sir.'

She stands and wipes the sand from her clothes.

His fingers dig into his legs, but otherwise he remains motionless.

With a sigh Ellie sets off in the direction of the station.

Hardy stays, still as a statue, until the water spills over his shoes. Finally he scrambles to his feet and follows her, his soaked feet leaving a wet trail in her footsteps.

Ellie catches sight of him when he slumps back into his office. He looks pained, mumbles something that vaguely resembles ' 'm sorry, Miller.' and Ellie is surprised by how quickly she has forgiven him. 

~~~

They walk over the muddy sand in brooding silence. Hardy's clearly upset. Ellie is almost running in order to keep up with his long determined strides. The hands that are stuffed in his jacket are balled to fists. 

There are things she wants to say to him, questions burning in her mind, but she knows it's best to wait and let him start the conversation. Ellie suspects that his mind is racing as much as her own. Joe’s trial is putting a lot of pressure on the both of them, and today has been the hardest so far. They should have expected the line of questioning. She vaguely remembers Maggie’s warnings. But nothing had prepared her for the wild accusations being thrown at her without having a chance to defend herself. Without a chance to defend both of them. 

Hardy stops walking so suddenly that Ellie almost crashes into him.

'You shouldn't come with me to Sandbrook.'

'What?' She pants. 'Why not?'

'It will only jeopardize the trial.'

He resumes walking and Ellie hurries after him.

'What? Don't be ridiculous.'

'Have you not been paying attention, Miller? We might know better, but the audience found miss Bisschop's scenario quite believable.' His voice lowers. 'It's always the same with those bloody juries. They love sensation. Feed them a story, the juicier the better. Who cares about the truth when there’s a story to tell?'

'Hardy, wait!' Ellie can't keep up anymore. She leans forward on her knees, trying to catch her breath. To her relief Hardy returns to her side immediately.

'You should do more cardio.' He comments dryly.

She hits his arm in reply. 'Damn you and your long legs.'

Hardy rubs the spot, looking like he can’t decide whether to pout or to scold her..

Ellie sighs. 'Look, you're right. They might believe that we had an affair, but there is nothing we can do about that. Avoiding each other from now on will only raise suspicion. Me working on Sandbrook won't change a damn thing.'

'I just…' he shrugs. 'I don't want them to believe that.'

Ellie rolls her eyes. 'Yeah, duh… i’m not particularly happy with everybody thinking of us together either..'

'No, you don't understand. You-' He pauses and frowns. Then he shakes his head. 'Nevermind.'

Ellie has known him long enough to know that look. 'No, out with it. Tell me what I don’t understand.'

'It’s not about us.' He points at the two of them and cringes when Ellie raises her eyebrows, 'I mean, not about me.' He sighs, shakes his head and starts over. 'You know I couldn’t care less what they think of me.'

Ellie nods. 'I know.'

'But I care what they say about you, Miller, you’re my friend and I don't want anyone to think that you-'

He gestures vaguely,

'That I had sex with you?' She grins mischievously.

'‘That you were having an affair.’ he finishes lamely..

She shrugs. 'Not sure if it can get any worse than sleeping with a killer.'

'Maybe not.' He agrees.

They slip into a comfortable silence, standing side by side, staring at the horizon. Ellie muses over Hardy’s words. In a way it’s sweet that he is trying to protect her, but she’s still going to Sandbrook. People talk, they always do. Ellie doesn’t care. He needs this case solved and she will be there to help him. A smile starts forming on her lips. 

'Stop grinning, Miller.'

'Friend? Really?' 

'Shut up.' 

  
  


~~~

They are sitting on what Ellie silently has started referring to as “their” bench. It’s late and they’re alone. Joe is gone. Sandbrook is closed. There’s nothing more to do. Everything’s been said. It;s a strange sensation, not having to think about winning a trial or a solving a murder. They just sit and let it all sink in.

Ellie is sitting up straight, arms crossed over her chest. She shivers lightly despite her oversized orange coat. Hardy is quite the opposite image, slouching against the backrest with his hands folded in his lap. He has taken off his tie and looks almost casual.

‘Miller?’

‘Hmm?’ she hums.

‘You’re my best friend, you know that, right?’

She turns in her seat, trying to gauge him. ‘I do. What’s going on?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No.’ she eyes him suspiciously. ‘What makes you say this?’

He shrugs, turning his head to look at the sea.

Suddenly Ellie understands. ‘You’re leaving, aren’t you?’

He looks pained, but doesn’t answer. 

The gravity of the statement is momentarily overwhelming, but she pushes it back to the edge of her mind. ‘I don’t want to do this now.’

She stands, intended on leaving, but Hardy grabs her wrist and gently pulls her back. 

‘I’m sorry.’ he offers weakly.

‘Don’t.’

Don’t be sorry.

Don’t leave.

He holds her gaze for another moment before dropping her hand. ‘I have to.’

‘I said I don’t want to do this now.’

Hardy rises from his seat, stepping closer. ‘I know.’

‘You can’t leave, Alec.’ Her eyes shine bright with tears that she is holding back. ‘I can’t lose another friend.’

‘I know.’ He reaches for her, but she pulls away.

‘Don’t.’

He watches her walk away.

He tries again anyway, holding his arms open in an invitation. This time Ellie gives in and buries her head in his shoulder. He rubs soothing circles on her back as she cries, whispering softly in her ear. ‘It’s okay. It will be okay.’

‘Promise me you’ll come back.’

He pulls back and pushes a strand of hair from her eyes.

‘Promise me.’ she repeats. ‘Please.’

He swallows, knows it’s probably a mistake, because there is no way he can guarantee something like this, but he nods anyway. ‘I promise.’

Ellie smiles through the tears and it breaks his heart. He pulls her closer and presses his lips against her forehead.

‘I promise.’ he says again.

And again.

And again. 

Until he starts believing it himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm a sucker for forehead kisses, even sad ones. 
> 
> The good news is that the next chapter is almost finished already!  
> Take a guess, G is for ...?


	7. G - Grapes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Miller catches the flu and Hardy brings her grapes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to recreate some of the grape- awkwardness from season 1.  
> This takes place after Hardy got his pacemaker, so I'd say after season 2.  
> G is for grapes. Enjoy!

It was commonly known that the flu season has its peaks in December and February. It shouldn’t have surprised anyone that this year was no different. A few weeks into the new year people around the station had started to develop symptoms of a cold. The amount of coughing, sneezing, red noses and watery eyes had increased exponentially as the virus spread amongst the officers.

Hardy didn’t really take notice of the absences of his co-workers. So long as the people he worked with on a daily basis were available, everything was fine. It wasn’t until one Tuesday morning that DS Miller called in sick, that he started to become aware of how empty the police station was.

The first day everything had been fine. Hardy had even secretly celebrated the occasion. A day without distractions was just what he needed to get rid of all the residual paperwork. It wasn’t that he didn’t like having Miller around, but having her barge into his office multiple times a day did not exactly contribute to reducing the pile of files on his desk.

Out of habit Hardy had started Wednesday morning by making himself and Miller tea. Hours later the cold beverage was still standing on her desk untouched. He felt like the mug was mocking him for his foolishness and, after throwing out the tea, he hid the offending item in the drawer under his desk. He would not make that mistake again.

On the third day Hardy found he couldn’t concentrate. The station was abnormally silent and for some reason it was bothering him. Normally he found the early or late hours, when everyone else had gone home, to provide an optimal working environment. Although, he suspected, even those lonely hours were easier to spend with Miller typing away at her computer, scribbling on her notepad or nagging at him about whatever was on her mind. It wasn’t that he missed her, he mused to himself, he was just annoyingly aware of her absence.

He spent half an hour in a staring contest with his phone deliberating whether or not it was appropriate to call her. In the end he opted for a text.  
- _I started a new case without you. When will you be back?  
_ It didn’t take long for her to reply.  
- _After the weekend. Don’t want to infect anyone.  
_ That meant he had at least three more days before she would be here to bother him again. A year ago this news would have cheered him up, but now the emptiness reigning the station seemed to spread and take residence in his chest.  
- _Is it that bad?  
_ He kept staring at the screen, waiting for an answer that didn’t come right away. He wasn’t worried, Hardy told himself, not really. He was just being polite.  
Finally the phone buzzed.  
- _Don’t worry. I’ll live._

On Friday Hardy decided that if he couldn’t get his work done behind his desk, he might just as well not get his work done elsewhere. He took his coat and ventured out of the station, hoping that maybe a walk would clear his mind. He had intended to take the coastal path, but he didn’t get much farther than the pier. His mind kept wandering back to Miller. What would she do when he was the one catching the flu?

The only time two times Hardy had been called in sick, he had been in the hospital for his heart. And he had been stubborn enough not to let it last longer than one day. On both these occasions Miller had been there too, he realised. The first time she had presented him with a bag of grapes, the second time with a punch. Both times he had received a scolding for being reckless and not telling her anything. He supposed he did deserve that.

Even if he would simply catch the flu, he would likely find Miller next to his bed giving him an earful about not taking care of himself. There would likely be some angry tea making involved, as well as force feeding him something healthy and rich in vitamins.

This particular image gave him an idea and Hardy changed direction, leaving the dirty sand in favour of the town's grocery store.

~~~

Once he was standing at Miller’s doorstep, doubt started to overcome him. Maybe this wasn’t such a good plan after all. Maybe he was making a huge mistake. She would definitely think it was weird. Why did these doubts always start after he had already rang the doorbell? Hardy silently counted to fifteen, praying that Miller was asleep and wouldn’t answer the door and he could still go back and pretend this hadn’t happened. To his immense relief not a sound was heard from inside.

Hardy had barely taken three steps away from the porch when a loud sneeze came from behind him.

Startled, his heart pounding loudly, he faced the open door. ‘Miller?’

‘What are you doing here?’

Miller was standing in the doorway, eying him wearily, if a bit unfocused. She was wearing sweatpants, a hideous pair of grey woolen socks and a pullover. To top it all off a blanket was draped over her head and shoulders.

‘You look very…’ he gestured uncertainly. ‘Comfy?’

‘I’m freezing.’ She pulled on the blanket, wrapping it closer around herself. ‘Aren’t you?’

Hardy looked down at his coat and jacket that were both open, leaving his chest covered by only two layers. He shrugged. ‘No.’

‘Well, I am, so I’m gonna close the door. If you want to come in, now’s the time.’ She stepped back to allow him passage and shut the door behind them.

‘If you want tea, I- hold on.’ She sneezed three times in rapid succession. ‘I can put the kettle on’

‘Why don’t you sit down and let me do it.’ he suggested quickly. It would give him a moment to compose himself and have the benefit that she wouldn’t accidentally sneeze in his tea.

The incredulous expression at “Alec Hardy spontaneously offering to make tea” dissipated as she sneezed another two times. ‘Fine. Don’t touch anything else.’

A few minutes later he found her bundled up on her couch. The blanket was now functioning to warm her feet and lower legs. He handed her the tea and put down a second mug for himself. Then he reached inside his jacket pocket and, after a moment of hesitation, dropped a plastic bag on the coffee table. It was clear that he didn’t want to give it any further attention and of course this in itself piqued Miller’s curiosity.

In a desperate attempt to cover up his embarrassment and pry her attention away from the bag, Hardy sat down and coughed awkwardly. ‘So, how are you doing?’

‘As you can see. It’s getting better, but I’m cold.’ Ellie answered, her eyes not leaving the presented bag. ‘Why are you here? Are you okay?’

He nipped at his tea, buying himself time to decide which would be the least uncomfortable way to answer without lying. After some consideration he opted for ‘The station is very silent.’ Which was the truth. 

‘Aww.’ She grinned. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘Nah, I can manage on my own.’ He replied. Which was only a half-truth, considering that he hadn’t gotten anything done the day before.

Ellie grinned at him sceptically. ‘Something tells me that’s not completely true.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Why’d you think that?’

‘You’re here, aren’t you?’ she pointed out.

‘I am.’ he admitted reluctantly.

‘So, what’s this?’ Ellie pointed at the coffee table, trying hard to hide a smile as Hardy shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘ ’s For you.’ 

‘Is this what I think it is?’ she put down her mug in favour of grabbling at the plastic. ‘Did you really bring me grapes?’

‘Figured that’s what you people do.’ Hardy stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, suddenly looking embarrassed. The fact that Miller was watching him with an expression of great amusement did not boost his confidence. ‘Is that bad?’

‘No.’ Ellie laughed. ‘I mean, yes that’s what we do. It’s just-’

He was slightly relieved, but still confused. ‘Just what?’ 

‘You.’ She grinned, opening the bag and picked at the green fruits. ‘Is this you trying to be supportive boss again?’

He mumbled something inaudible.

‘Hmm?’ She inquired, popping one of the grapes in her mouth. She munched on it and delight spread over her face. ‘Oh, they’re very tasty, want one?’

‘I don’t-’ he started to object, but she didn’t want to hear it.

‘Bloody hell, sir, just take one.’

He sighed and picked one from the bag she held up for him. After inspecting the little fruit thoroughly he took a small bite. A sweet and sour taste with a bitter edge filled his mouth. Miller was right, it was tasty. His own delight must have shown on his face, because MIller was looking rather triumphantly.

‘Told you so.’ She offered him the bag and was visibly pleased that Hardy didn’t protest before politely taking another one. ‘So, what were you saying?’

He quickly swallowed his second grape, coughing a little as the sourness stung in his throat.

‘I said I’m not here as your boss.’

‘So what then?’ Ellie looked at him mischievously. ‘Is this you being supportive friend?’

‘Don’t be daft, Miller, I don’t do that.’

‘Don’t do what?’ she inquired cheekily. ‘Being nice to people?’

He managed to look both affronted and defiant at the same time and Ellie started laughing. 

He groaned. ‘See, this is why I don’t need to be nice to you. You’re already back to being your annoying self.’

‘Never stopped.’ she assured him, then sneezed again and grinned. ’Admit it. You were so worried about me.’

‘I was not.’

‘Pretty sure you were.’

‘That’s it. I’m going.’ Hardy raised from the chair, effectively hiding his flushed face. ‘Gotta enjoy my last few hours working without you.’

She was shaking with laughter by the time he reached the door. He turned one last time and saw that apparently to her this was so funny that even a few tears were streaming down her face. Sometimes this woman remained a mystery to him.

‘What?’ He asked. 

‘You brought grapes.’

He shook his head amusedly. ‘Don’t choke on the seeds. Miller.’ 

The next burst of laughter followed him down the hallway and he was grinning now too. Of course the grapes were seedless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Outtake #1:  
> ‘Don’t do what?’ she inquired cheekily. ‘Being nice to-?’  
> 'Shut it!' he hissed. 'I'm DI Hardy, I'm not nice! I'm NEVER nice! NICE IS A FOUR LETTER WORD!'
> 
> \-----
> 
> Thanks again for all the kind comments. It's a joy to write these chapters and I'm glad others enjoy reading them.  
> I hope you're all staying safe and healthy.  
> The next chapter will get a bit angstier as we continue with the storyline of Alec's panic attack:  
> H is for one of the things that I miss most during this period of social distancing: a hand to hold.


	8. H - A Hand to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of chapter 3.  
> Alec tries to face his demons on his own. Miller comes to the rescue.
> 
> Sometimes all you need is someone to talk to or a hand to hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm drowning in work and deadlines and when the Dutch lock lockdown was reinforced, my own panic attacks made a comeback as well! This was all the writing I managed this month and it's basically me working through my own issues. The ending is relatively happy
> 
> Don't try this at home.

**!Trigger warnings!** This is 2100 words of lockdown-induced anxiety. Explicit descriptions of panic attacks. There's a brief selfdestructive contemplation, which is not intended as a suicidal thought, but I do realise that it can be interpreted that way.  
Description of the used techniques in the endnote.

With determined strides Alec Hardy walked along the docks. For anyone watching him, he would appear confident, though irritated as always, and completely in control. Upon closer inspection, however, one could notice the hard line drawn between his eyebrows, the slight falter in his step and the continuous twitching of his right thumb. But no-one would notice, because Hardy had made sure that this morning he would be alone.

There was no police tape, no police car left on the sidewalk with the lights still on, no blaring portophones and no Dirty Brian, or anyone from SOCO for that matter, waiting for him in one of those white spacesuits he found so appalling. He hadn’t even brought Miller. 

He had almost reached the end of the pier as his composure started wavering. His legs felt heavier with every step, slowing him down while his traitorous heart sped up. At the very last wooden plank he stopped and stood there, clutching a pillar until his knuckles had turned white. Then, with immense willpower, he took a deep breath and looked down.

The call had come in early that morning, before Hardy had even been in the office. The owner of one of the boats had reported a break-in. Nothing that couldn’t be settled with the insurance company, the man had said, but it would be appreciated if someone could take a look.

At first Hardy had dismissed it as a poor attempt at insurance fraud, which was below his payroll and more suitable for the colleagues downstairs anyway. At second thought, upon seeing a picture of the boat, he had decided that maybe it was worth a visit.

The boat itself wasn’t special. It just happened to have docked near the place where only a few months ago a girl had nearly drowned.

Months had passed since Miller had found him on the floor of his office.. It should have been enough. The nightmares had become less frequent, and were decreasing in intensity. He still woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in his own sweat, biting his knuckles to keep himself from screaming and scaring the hell out of his daughter, but it had become easier to calm down. He was coping in a more or less healthy way and he had Miller to thank for it.

A few days after the incident she had wordlessly slipped him a piece of paper on which she had listed all the grounding techniques that she knew. At the bottom she had reminded him of his promise. _“If these don’t work you call me. ANY time.”_ He never called.

True to his word he had tried. He had picked up the phone and one or two times he had even gone one step further, scrolling through the contacts, thumb hovering above her name. He could never bring himself to press down. Not while he felt like he could manage on his own and the guilt of waking her was too much.

That was the thing about panic attacks. The point of no return was marked by the rational self being taken out of the equation. He saw no point in asking for help until it had gotten so bad that he couldn’t ask for help anymore.

And now here he was, at the very place that had sent him spiraling into his anxieties. It was different, he told himself, because he was here by his own choice. He had chosen to come here, to face his fears and bring an end to the images haunting his dreams. That's why he had to do this alone. He just had to be brave. 

Standing on the edge, however, bravery was the last thing on his mind. Bravery was what one felt before going into battle. His fight had started when he set foot on the docks and the unwanted images threatened to fill his mind. This time he had been prepared.

_Veritas, Hopian, Forta, Fortuna_

His thumb twitched, restless energy trying to escape, while he gathered the courage to finally look his enemy in the eye. 

_Fidelis, Honora, Joyeu._

He breathed in deeply, feeling the distinct sting of salt. He swallowed, concentrating on keeping his breathing in check. He could do this.

_Veritas, Hopian, Forta, Fortuna, Fidelis, Honora, Joyeu._

The names were a mantra, a repeating cycle. Old names from another lifetime. A line of ink in a children's book that had been read so many times that the cover had come off.

_Truth, hope, strength, luck_

It had been one of Miller’s ideas, a technique to divert his mind from whatever image it was pushing into his head, something to fully focus on,

_Loyalty, honor, joy_

In through the nose, out through the mouth. 

_Truth, hope, strength_

He opened his eyes, meeting the waves curling around the pillars below him.

_Luck, loyalty, honor, joy_

The water was a dark muddy brown, making it impossible to tell how deep one could sink.

_Laughter filling the air, children screaming in joy. An anxious cry._

He shook his head to fight off the memory.

_Veritas, truth. The truth. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth._

_A splash. 'Help!’ Legs turned to stone._

_The truth is that I couldn’t save her. I would have let her drown. That’s the truth._

_More splashing, desperate cries from both the girl and her friends._

It was okay, he had expected this. The flashbacks were part of the process. He just had to push through and everything would be fine. He knew what would come next.

_Water. Water everywhere._

He was standing on dry land, he could swim, it was just a memory, it would pass.

_Water soaking his clothing, pulling him down, A dead weight in his arms, gravity dragging him away from the surface. Water closing above him, shielding him from the world._

He couldn’t breathe. The air seemed too thick to pass though his clenched throat. A weight pressed on his chest. A choking sound escaped him as he doubled over, his back wanting to curl and arch at the same time, unable to escape the tension either way. Seagulls passed overhead and their screams vanished in the blurry stream of water and the rapid pounding of his own heart. 

Suddenly he was overcome with the urge to jump. There was a need, an unnatural desire to feel the water close around him as he sank. He needed to feel the reality of it all, feel something that did not only exist in his head. He bent his knees, ready to take the leap.

Rough hands clawed at jacket, pulling him back.

‘Christ, Alec!’

They stumbled backwards and he struggled to regain his footing. The fog that had been clouding his mind had cleared a little, the pressure around his throat moved to his chest and he gasped, filling his lungs with salt air. Air, not water.

‘You idiot! What were you thinking?’ Miller was shouting at him, anger nearly masking the fear and panic that blended into the words. Her voice rang painfully in his ears and for a moment he thought she was gonna hit him. He closed his eyes, waiting, but all he saw was water. He could feel it, hear it, all around him.

‘Look at me.’ Miller must have seen the change, because now the panic was replaced with worry.

He shook his head.

‘Goddamnit, Alec!’ she swore, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him firmly. ‘Open your eyes and look at me!’

He forced himself to comply, meeting the familiar dark brown eyes.

‘This place is a trigger.’ She said shortly. ‘We should go.’

‘No!’ he yanked his hand away, immediately regretting his outburst as hurt flashed over Miller’s face. ‘I need-’ his voice broke and against all laws of nature more tears forced themself from his eyes as reality caught up. He had wanted to jump, wanted to feel. How could he want that, when he still- when the water-

'Breathe.' Miller’s voice broke through his thoughts. 'It's okay. I'm right here.'

The hand on his shoulder tightened as she stepped closer. Fingers touched the back of his neck, guiding him closer until he gave in and buried his head in her shoulder. 

His body shook, every convulsion a wave of anger, fear, sadness, too big to process. It was blind panic, but on a different level, where he was no longer just scared, but overwhelmingly sad. 

A soft hand reached down, tracing over his wrist, gently preening his clenched fist apart. Her palm slid into his and he grabbed her hand like it was a lifeline. 

He breathed in, nose filling with her scent, as she inhaled and he felt her chest expand against his before separating in an exhale.

'Alec, use your techniques.’ She squeezed his hand, the other still rubbing his shoulder. ‘You can do this.’

He struggled, grasping for words that were so close, but just out of reach. His head was warm, fuzzy and felt too heavy. If only he could find the first word, the truth that-

‘V-veritas.’

The word came out in a stutter that shocked the both of them. He had never meant to speak aloud. He stiffened and felt Miller pull back.

‘Truth?’

For a moment she looked confused and shame welled up in his chest, but before it could spread, she recovered.

‘Your list.’ she smiled encouragingly. ’Go on.’

_Truth, hope, strength, water, water all around- no!’_

‘Hopian.’ he breathed.

‘Hope.’ Miller answered with another squeeze.

‘Forta.’ now that he started talking it was easier to let the other names roll off his tongue. ‘Fortuna, Fidelis, Honora, Joyeu.’

He took a breath and repeated the string, faster this time, focusing on the words, the meaning behind them, until little by little the crushing sadness loosened its grip on him. 

Miller waited patiently, rubbing soothing patterns on the back of his hand while he whispered. As he paused to breath or swallow, she spoke softly, telling him that he was doing good, that everything was okay, that he should take his time.

Eventually he felt the last traces of panic subside and he closed his mouth, lifting his gaze to Miller’s. 

The worry was still evident in the weak smile that she gave him. ‘Ready to go?’

She waited for him to lead the way, but it wasn’t before they reached the street that she took her hand from his and wiped the sweat on her trousers.

‘Miller, wait.’ he stopped her before she could cross the street to the station. They hadn’t spoken a word while walking and if they went back into the office now, he would never want to speak of this again.

She turned and looked up at him expectantly.  
‘Thank you.’ was all he could manage. 

‘You’re welcome.’ She replied. Then she frowned. ’Why did you go there alone?’ 

‘I had to.’ he looked at her pleadingly, willing her to understand what he could not put into words.

‘You didn’t tell anyone where you went.’ She could no longer hide the accusation behind the words. ‘Was it out of pride? To prove that you’re strong enough to fix yourself?’

He kept silent, averting his gaze. She was right to be angry with him and there was no way he could defend himself.’

‘I-’ She bit her lip, hesitating. ‘For a moment I thought-’ But then she shook her head. ‘Nevermind’

‘I’m sorry.’ He offered.

He was. He didn’t know what else to say. Nothing he could say would change what had happened. 

‘You scared me.’ Her hand had closed around his again, pulling him closer. ‘Never do that to me again.’

He shrugged helplessly. ‘I can’t promise that.’’

‘I’m not asking you to promise.’ she countered. ‘I’m telling you to try. Don’t you understand? You don’t have to do these things alone. You don't even have to- to-' she paused, searching for words. 'To have a panic attack every time, because you're too stubborn to ask for help.'

She knew. It shouldn’t surprise him anymore and yet-. 'How did you-'

'Oh, for god's sake, Hardy. I'm not an idiot.'

He shook his head. 'You never mentioned it.'

'You never called.'

The hurt seeping into her voice sent a pang of guilt through his chest. He swallowed and murmured weakly. 'I couldn't.'

Miller remained silent for so long that he began to feel uncomfortable. Suddenly he was painfully aware of the hand that was still wrapped around his.

At last she sighed loudly. 'You might not believe it, but really sometimes all you need is someone to talk to or…'

‘Or…?’ he inquired.

But she sent him a sad smile and shook her head. ‘Nevermind. You wouldn’t understand.’

He watched as she crossed the street, leaving him on the other side of the road. His fingers tingled where she had squeezed his hand before she let go.

_Oh…_

_Sometimes all you need is a hand to hold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I repeat: Don't try this at home! There's really no shame in asking for help.  
> Thank you for reading. I hope you're all staying safe.
> 
> In this fic I integrated another strategy that I use to ward off panic attacks. The list of names he recites is the one I use myself. For anyone wondering, these are from the Deltora Quest books, which hold a very special place in my heart.  
> The technique Alec uses is technically not a grounding technique so much as a diversion technique.  
> Anyone who has seen Jessica Jones, Teen Wolf or Atypical might recognize this one: Repeating a string of words, connected with visuals (JJ: picture the street signs on your block. TW: the sun, the moon, the truth. A: reciting the 4 antarctic penguins in alphabetical order.). The trick is to choose something with a positive connotation, something you can picture. It's a strategy to shift your focus. 
> 
> The other technique is the same breathing technique as mentioned in chapter 3, breathing together with someone else.


	9. I - In Case of Emergency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardy finds out that he is Miller's emergency contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one week!  
> This one is happier than the previous chapter ;)
> 
> Happy reading!

The room looks just like he remembers. Everything is painted in a shade of white, from the floor to the walls to the radiators below the open curtains that sway gently in the morning breeze. One of the windows is ajar, letting in the noises of traffic approaching rush hour, the outside world mingling with the stern voices and beeping machines that float through the hallway. If he closes his eyes, it’s almost enough to forget where he is.

He’s perched on the edge of his seat, leaning on his knees and watches the woman lying in the hospital bed beside him. Ellie Miller isn’t attached to one of those scary looking monitors like he was. There are no wires or tubes attached to her, no steady beeping heartbeat echoing through the room. She’s just lying there, sleeping like nothing has happened. He knows better. Something did happen.

The doctors have told him that he shouldn’t worry, that she is going to be fine, that there are only minor injuries. They keep telling him that she has been very lucky. He keeps telling them to shut up, because if she had truly been lucky, she wouldn’t have been hurt at all.

‘Sir?’

Her voice is a harsh and fragile whisper, filled with pain and sleep, that has him on his feet and by her side in an instant. He finds her eyes, relieved to find them sharp and focused.

‘Miller.’ he greets her.

She blinks at him slowly. ‘What are you doing here? Where are we?'

'Hospital.' He answers briefly. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Ehm.’ She wriggles a bit under the covers, assessing her own lims no doubt, and winces in pain. ‘Like I got hit by a truck.’ she concludes.

'I'd figure.' He couldn't help but feel the small tug on his lip.

Her eyes widen. ‘Did I get hit by a truck?’

‘A car.’ he corrects her.

‘Ah...’ she looks around, taking in the room. Finally her eyes return to him. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Believe me, I’m as surprised as you are.’ He retorts. ‘Didn’t think to inform me about being your emergency contact?’

She huffs and then winces in pain. ‘Did you really expect it to be Joe?’

‘You have a sister!’

She has the decency to look at least a little bit ashamed. ‘Lucy and I are not exactly on speaking terms.’ Her eyes lift briefly and drop to her hands that are folded on top of the ugly green blanked. ‘I guess I just thought you were the most convenient choice.’

He stares at her, puzzled.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, you’re right, it’s convenient.’ he sighs. ‘But you really should have told me.’

She’s watching him intently and he can see a hundred questions pop up in her mind. He has surprised her somehow, but he can’t figure out why. He decides to ignore it for now.

‘Do you remember what happened last night?’ 

Miller grimaced and gestured at her body. 'Evidently I got hit by a car.'

'Tell me what else you remember.' Hardy takes a step back and leans against the wall. Miller seems to take it all very calmly, but he can tell that fear is bubbling underneath the surface.

‘I was driving home late.’ Miller’s face contorts in concentration. ‘I don’t remember coming home.’

‘That’s because you didn’t.’ 

'I didn't…' She looks lost in thought for a moment and then 'Oh god, Fred! Where is he? Is he okay?'

'He's with Lucy.' He quickly reassures her.

'Good. Okay.' She breathes in deeply, calming down a little. 'What happened?'

'Apparently you got into a fight.' He raises his eyebrow. 'Still doesn't ring a bell?'

She shakes her head.

'A witness saw you arguing in the middle of the road. You were pushed, lost your balance. There was another car-' He stops suddenly and shakes his head. 'It was an accident.'

Miller watches him intently, trying to make sense of his explanation. After a few minutes she gives up and shrugs. 'I don't remember anything. Not yet anyway.'

‘I’m not surprised.’ he says dryly. 'Short-term memory loss is a common side-effect of taking a blow to the head.' 

She chuckles and he smiles, relieved that she seems to be taking it all well. A comfortable silence settles over them. Hardy watches as Miller folds back the cover and takes inventory of her injuries. The doctors hadn’t lied when they said she had been very lucky. A large bandage covers her side where the skin had been grazed by the asphalt, but at least she hadn’t broken any bones.

‘Can you eh-’ Reluctantly she gestures at the covers that she kicked away. Upon his raised eyebrows she pats the bandages. ‘I probably shouldn’t pot too much strain on this.’

Of course she is right. He pushes himself from the wall and straightens. The cover is roughly pushed aside as he draws the thin white sheet that goes underneath it up to her shoulder. Then he spreads the heavier cover over it and folds the sheet over the cover’s edge. Miller’s eyes never leave him while he works. It almost feels like she’s a child that’s being tucked into her bed.

‘Is yours still Tess?’ The question tumbles out unfiltered, taking them both by surprise.

He freezes at the sound of her name. It takes him a moment to connect her question with the unprovided context. He shoots her a conflicted look, because Tess is in fact still listed as his emergency contact and it hasn’t bothered him before, but suddenly he isn’t sure why. So he answers her question with the only logical explanation he can find. ‘She’s Daisy’s mother.’

She doesn’t respond and he doesn’t elaborate. The silence that fills the room is no longer comfortable.

Ellie tries to turn to her side to get a better look at him, wincing slightly as this puts pressure on her side. She reaches out and lightly touches his arm to get his attention.

‘Thank you.’

‘What?’ he focuses on her.

‘For staying here.’

‘Yeah.’ He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self conscious. ‘Of course.’

…

When Ellie wakes later that afternoon Hardy is at her side again. He has changed into a suit and looks somewhat better than before. In his hands he is holding a case file which she recognises from the day before. He is staring at it blankly, lost in thoughts.

‘Hey.’ she calls softly.

His head shoots up and he puts the file down. In two long strides he is back at her side, this time sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better.’ she represses a yawn. ‘Tired.’

He grimaces. ‘That’s probably the drugs they gave you.’

‘Hmm, I bet.’ She points at the chair where he has dropped the papers. ‘What are you working on?’

She had expected Hardy to reach over and show them to her, but instead he remaines seated, staring at her intently.

‘I’ve been thinking…’ he starts, then stops and studies the wall behind her.

‘Really?’ she pokes his arm playfully as he doesn't continue. ‘What about?’

Hardy pushes her arm away gently, and fixes her with his gaze, willing her with his eyes to take whatever he is gonna say seriously.

‘I’m sorry.’ she quickly apologises. ‘No more jokes.’

His gaze doesn’t leave her as he stands and reaches not for the papers, but for his coat. ‘Maybe you’re right.’

Ellie has to bite her lip not to say  _ I’m always right _ , while she watches Hardy retrieve his phone.

Sitting down again he hands it to her. 'Look.' 

She stares at the device, unsure about the meaning of this. Turning it around in her hand doesn’t provide her any more clues of what he’s going on about

Hardy is watching her expectantly and seemingly a bit self conscious. She notices his fingers fumbling with the end of his tie. When it takes too long without any reaction for her side he hesitantly asks ‘Is this okay?’. 

She looks at him apologetically ‘I’m not following.’ She tries to hand him back his phone, but Hardy shakes his head. He reaches over and pushes the home button.

‘Look.’ he repeats and then presses the emergency dial. The screen shows her 2 options.

'What is this?'

Hardy rubs his eyes and groans in frustration. ‘This is me asking. Something you forgot to do.’

'That wasn't on purpose!' She objects. 'I just didn't think it'd be such an issue.'

'For god's sake Miller, stop making it such a big issue. Just say yes or no.'

'You're making this an issue!' Her finger is poking at his chest in what might have once been a threatening gesture, but her tone is light and bordering on playfulness. 'I mean, it's not a marriage proposal.'

She knows she has gone too far as she sees the brief flash of hurt cross his face and she instantly regrets making that last comment. She didn't mean to hurt him.

'Hardy-'

'Forget it.' He snatches the phone from her fingers and leaps from the bed. 'This was a stupid idea.'

‘Wait, I’m sorry.’ she catches his sleeve between her thumb and forefinger and tugs gently to hold him back. ‘What I meant was yes.’

He turns. ‘What?’ 

‘Yes, Hardy, I will be your emergency contact.’ she states as formally as she can manage.

He narrows his eyes. Eventually he seems to come to the conclusion that she isn't playing jokes on him. 'Thank you.' 

'You're welcome.' She smiles warmly, before breaking into a grin as she adds ‘But don’t expect me to come running for you for at least another week.’

‘Great.’ He snorts. ‘If anything happens I’ll ask them to put my bed next to yours.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ she grins.

‘On second thought, I’ll have to be very careful until you’re out of here.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written about 75% of this fic when I realised that it would have been more likely if their roles were reversed. Oh well... 
> 
> ICE was a system meant to make it easier to find out which of a victims relatives to inform in case of emergencies. Many smartphones have an option to save an ICE (in case of emergency) contact, which is accessible without unlocking the device. Unfortunately the idea never became much of a success. For more info see the wikipedia page.
> 
> Next up: A two- (maybe 3-) parter about Jealousy and a Kiss.  
> Yes, it's finally happening!


	10. J - Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hardy doesn't know anything about texting and Miller is confused about her feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me ages... The idea was there, but the words wouldn't come.  
> Here it finally is. Enjoy!  
> J is for Jealousy

‘Miller!’ Hardy’s voice boomed from his office. ‘I could use your help here.’

It was a Sunday morning and both of them were at their respective desks, following up on a lead on a series of thefts. Two suspects had been taken into custody and Hardy had confiscated their phones. Currently he was going through the files stored on them while Ellie cross referenced locational data with cctv images. She had been staring blindly at a dark and mostly empty street when Hardy called her.

Ellie got up and wandered into the little office while rubbing the tiredness from her sore eyes. Sitting down at his desk she had to stifle a yawn before asking ‘Found anything?’ 

‘ ‘S this text. I don’t get it.’ He explained. ‘It ends with ex oh ex oh... What does that mean? Who signs a text with that?’

She blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes again, trying to decide whether she should be surprised or not about the gap in Hardy’s common knowledge. ‘It’s just…’ she shrugged. How was she gonna explain the meaning of hugs and kisses to him? If she had to guess, her boss wouldn’t even understand what signing an x meant.

‘You’ve seen it before?’ He looked interested now, so she decided to go with that.

‘Of course I have.’ she nodded. ‘It’s very commonly used between friends.’

‘What kind of friends?’

She thought about it. ‘Good friends I guess. Me and Beth used it for a while.’

It hurt a little to say this out loud. Even though she and Beth were back to being friends, some things would never come back. The past had altered their friendship in an unrepairable way and this was one of the little things that reminded her that things would never go back to the way they were.

‘So it’s just slang?’ Hardy ventured. ‘Just a friendly way of greeting and nothing else?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ she replied distractedly. ‘Wouldn’t it be faster if you let me go through the chat history?’

‘No need. I finished that hours ago.’ 

‘Oh.’ She blinked in surprise. ‘Then what’s this about?’

‘Take a look at this.’ He shoved his phone under her nose. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Ellie blinked and moved her head back, putting some distance between her eyes and the screen so that she could actually read the text. It consisted of only four words.

- _ See you tomorrow! xoxo _

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hardy hadn’t been fussing over a case file, but over his own phone. Well, that certainly changed things.

Ellie quickly checked who had sent it. The contact had been labelled “D”. A funny feeling bubbled up in her stomach. It was cold and empty at the same time, but mostly it was itchy and plainly unpleasant. Ellie couldn’t quite place it.

She coughed, regaining some of her composure. ‘What’s this then?’

‘A text.’ he said impatiently, clearly bothered that she seemed so slow on the uptake. He had taken off his glasses and was twirling them around in his fingers while looking at her expectantly.

Ellie coughed again, feeling her the tips of her ears glow. ‘It seems.’ she said slowly. ‘Like someone is looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.’

‘Hmm.’ he stared at the screen until it turned black and seemed to consider this.

Ellie had expected him to look a bit happier about this, but the lines between his brows had deepened. He gave the impression that he was solving an extremely complex mathematical problem. She chuckled inwardly. In Hardy’s case maybe the maths would have been easier to navigate than the social aspects of his life.

‘Would it be weird if I used it in a reply?’

‘What?’ His eyes were looking at her helplessly. She quickly recovered and shook her head. ‘No, I suppose not.’

Ellie stared at his hands as Hardy thumbed a quick message for the mystery texter. She wondered who it could have been. Hardy had gone on at least one cheeky date, a few weeks back, but she hadn’t gotten the impression that it had been a success. She giggled at the memory of his shocked and bewildered expression as she had bumped into him afterwards. 

Hardy shot her a distracted glare.‘ Don’t you have work to do, Miller?’

‘I was-’ she started defensively, but he cut her off.

‘Quit the daydreaming. Out.’ he waved her towards the door. ‘Out. This case isn’t gonna solve itself.’

As it turned out it wouldn’t be Ellie who solved this case either. At least not today. She tried, she had really tried to focus on the casefiles in front of her, but her attention kept wavering. 

The odd feeling in her stomach had been growing more persistent until she could no longer ignore its presence. Her skin itched and she felt vaguely vacant. 

She kept mulling over the strange text, couldn’t stop wondering what it had to mean. Had it come from the same woman from that date? Or maybe he had met someone else afterwards? Or maybe even before his daughter had set up that dating profile…

There was no way Ellie could do her work like this. She had to figure out what was going on with Hardy first.

Her first attempt at unraveling the mystery text came a few hours later when Hardy was making a late lunch for himself.

‘So…’ Ellie drawled, circling him in the small kitchen not much unlike a predator stalks its prey. ‘What’s happening tomorrow?’

‘Tomorrow?’ Hardy raised an eyebrow at her.

‘The text.’ she clarified, then added pointedly. ‘Your date.’

‘Oh, that’s not a date.’ He waved dismissively. ‘I promised to make pasta. Her favourite.’

She processed this new piece of information. Hardy was cooking for his date, but still he didn’t seem overly enthusiastic about the whole thing. Or maybe, the voice in the back of Ellie’s head supplied helpfully, he just doesn’t want to discuss his dating life with his colleague. However, before she could ask further questions, the microwave pinged.

Ellie watched in both fascination and disgust as Hardy swiftly turned and retrieved a plate with an overcooked piece of bread. He stared at the steam rising from it and then sniffed it, then poked a finger at the soppy substance and scrunched his nose. She wondered if he was really gonna eat that.

The question was answered as Hardy reached in the sink and rinsed the knife that he had found there, before opening the jar of peanut butter.

‘That’s disgusting.’ she commented. ‘How can you put that in your mouth willingly?’

He ignored the question and started prodding experimantally at the peanut butter. ‘Do you need something, Miller?’

Being grossed out by his lunch had distracted her from her objective. Ellie couldn’t think of a single question that would provide her with more information. Not while his food was in front of her. So she gave up and left Hardy to his lunch.

She tried it a second time when she was getting ready to go home. Hardy was still immersed in the files on his computer screen when she knocked on the doorframe.

‘Day’s over.’ she announced. ‘Time to go home. Pack up your stuff.’

Hardy glanced at the clock and then back at his screen. ‘Alright.’ he sighed. ‘I’m stuck anyway.’

To Ellie this was a welcome victory. It didn’t happen often that he would come with her willingly. She was watching him finish up his work when she got an idea.

‘You never told me about your cheeky date.’

Her comment made him stiffen and sit up slowly. ‘My date?’

‘Yeah, you know. Dates.’ she said pointedly. ‘You. Going out. With women.’

‘One date, it was one date, Miller!’ Hardy groaned. His cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. ‘There’s nothing to talk about.’

‘Are you sure?’ 

‘Why are you suddenly so interested in my dating life?’ He squinted at her suspiciously.

‘You’re my friend. It’s a natural curiosity.’ 

‘No this is different. Before today you’ve never asked me about it.’

He was right. She hadn’t. She had only teased him about it when she’d bumped into him right after, but she hadn’t mentioned it again. Partially because she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject and partially because she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know. Maybe she had gone too far. She was behaving like an idiot. A small amount of guilt manifested itself in the confusing cold bubbling of emotions that was already present. Her shoulders slouched and her gaze dropped in defeat.

‘It’s that text you showed me.’ she mumbled. ‘i just-’

She shrugged, not sure how to put it into words.

‘That text? What does that have to do with this? I already told you, it’s not- Wait.’ he stopped mid-track as his brain provided him with the answer. ‘Are you jealous?’

‘What, me?’ she feigned ignorance, failing miserably at sounding even the least convincing. ‘What should I be jealous of?’

It was a defence mechanism, trying to deny the truth that he had figured out before she had. That the empty feeling that had followed her all day could only mean one thing. She, Ellie Miller, was jealous. 

It was almost cute, the way Hardy’s gaze dropped and his expression changed from victorious annoyance to confused rejection. Ellie could see the doubt creep in, but it was too late to take her words back. The worst was the hurt that seeped through, even though he was clearly trying not to show it.

‘Well, I don’t know!’ He spit out at last. ‘How would I know?’

And with that he pushed past her and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said this is a 2-parter, so it's not gonna end like this ;)  
> Next up K is for Kiss.


End file.
